


A World Away

by red_crate



Series: Harringrove Pornathon 2019 [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Pining, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 12:43:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19357261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_crate/pseuds/red_crate
Summary: He can remember the way it feels when he’s got someone he doesn’t really want choking on his cock, recalls it now, but he’s thinking about soft brown hair sliding between his fingers. Thinking about who hedoeswant.He thinks about wide brown-green eyes staring up at him.





	A World Away

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day two of the Harrington Pornathon.

 

His door doesn’t lock, but he’s got it shut and a plausible pile of dirty laundry sitting half in the way in case someone gets the drop on him. If it’s his dad, he’ll catch hell for the pigsty. Honestly, Billy will take punishment for that over what his old man would do if he caught him like this though. Billy pushes that thought out of his mind for now. The parents are out to dinner and Maxine has had her nose buried in that dragon book for the last hour.

He’s as alone as he can ever be. 

Smoke hazes his reflection when he looks at the mirror. With the lamp on to his left, Billy thinks it almost looks like he’s on a stage in some fictional club. He draws the last pull off his cigarette, holding the burn in his lungs. His fingers trail over a strap ashe bobs along to his radio. 

The fabric is a little too tight across his stomach, kind of loose over his chest and hips. Billy ignores that though. He drops the butt of his cigarette into the cheap red ash tray sitting on his bedside table, watching the curve of his body when he turns. 

He looks _ good _ . 

Billy reaches up and combs his fingers through the loose curls of his hair. When he releases it, they spring back, fall into his eyes. He skims that hand back down, over his neck, down, down, down until a finger hooks on the dip between his pecs. 

He’s breathing a little harder now. When he looks in the mirror, Billy zeroes I’m on the points of his nipples  rubbing against beige satin. With a tug along the edge of the fabric so they tingle and zing. 

“Yeah,” he says softly. 

Billy reaches for the hem of the slip with his other hand and hikes it up a little. It was already short, but he catches a glimpse of the join at his hip for a brief second. There’s a small damp spot against where the satin stretches across his pelvis. 

He licks his bottom lip, hand trailing up to bump across that bulge. Billy wanted to make this last, enjoy himself, but when he sees the alarm clock next to his bed a jolt of fear rushes through him. Dinner only takes so long, and since his dad got married, they come home pretty much straight after. 

Billy sighs and throws himself onto the bed, scrambling to keep the arousal stoked. He’s not going to get this chance again for a while, damn it. Eyes closing tight, he plucks at his nipples just a little too hard. He hisses at the pain-pleasure with a curl of the lip. 

The silky smooth feel of the slip over his chest is cool to the touch even with how hot he runs. Billy melts into the covers beneath his back, exhaling and relaxing as he gets back into the mood. Fingers walking down his abdomen, a picture starts to form in his head of someone lying next to him. 

Here in his bedroom, he can almost hear the soft, dark whisper of his name on someone’s lips. It’s their hand sneaking down between his legs then skimming back up to ghost across the place his cock is still covered. 

Billy bites back a moan, thumb circling around the head. He presses the pad of his thumb in just to feel the slip-slide where precome smeared. A rush of electricity curls up into his stomach, hot and sharp to replace the tendrils of anxiety working around his brain. 

He tucks his fingers beneath the edge of the slip, raises his hips so he can pull the fabric up. The cool brush of air against his cock is almost like a ghost of a touch. 

_ “Want you,” a voice confesses, desperate.  _

Billy groans as he strokes himself, firm grip a little dry—the kind of stroke that leaves him biting his bottom lip and pumping his hips up to meet his fist. He can’t help but imagine a warm, wet mouth tonguing between his fingers, easing them away to slick the way and swallow him down. He can remember the way it feels when he’s got someone he doesn’t really want choking on his cock, recalls it now, but he’s thinking about soft brown hair sliding between his fingers. Thinking about who he  _ does _ want. 

He thinks about wide brown-green eyes staring up at him. 

“Oh fuck,” Billy arches his back. He’s pumping up and down, twisting his fist so that sensitive spot under his head is singing with pleasure. 

He moves quickly, rolling up until he’s got his knees on the bed, thighs spread and tensed. 

_ “Please, baby,” that voice is behind him now _ . 

His free hand reaches back, grips the muscle below his ass before his nails press into skin. Through his half closed eyes, Billy can just make out a portion of his reflection. He watches the satin around his hips tighten when he twists it in his hand, pushes it up his side to expose his ass fully. 

_ “Let me, let me,” he begs, teeth and lips dragging across his shoulders _ . 

Releasing the satin, he skim his hand down, back along his flank and farther down until he’s got a good grip on one ass cheek. He slows the hand on his cock, breathing hard as he spreads his ass cheek out and extends his middle finger. The tip traces around his hole, shocky nerves lighting up at the thought of pushing  _ inside _ —of something inside him. 

_ “I’ll take care of you, baby,” the voice promises. A finger nudges, puts enough pressure where Billy wants it that Billy moans in agreement _ . 

Billy’s face and neck feel hot, shame creeping up his spine even as he starts fucking his fist in earnest now. He keeps his eyes slit open, watches the way he shudders at each touch of his own hands. He pushes against his hole in time with the roll of his hips. 

It’s not enough, not what he really wants. But it’s enough to have his orgasm ripping through his body. His balls draw up as come pulses over his knuckles. He milks it, fucks his hips into his fist with hand thrusts. Come shots farther up his stomach. It catches on the satin bunched around his waist and leaves a mess behind. 

“Oh fuck,” he groans quietly. Billy finally lets go of his cock, releases his ass cheek, and his arms hang loosely at his sides as his knees spread now that his joints are loose with pleasure. 

He doesn’t rub his come into the satin like he wants to. Knows it’s going to be hard enough to clean up his mess so no one suspects anything. Billy falls back down on his bed and clumsily wiggles out of the slip so he’s naked. His sweat damp skin cools and dries.

He gives himself three minutes, then he rolls up and pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a tee with the sleeves cut off. Billy takes the damp washcloth he’d snuck into his bedroom earlier and wipes at the drops of come so the worst of it is gone, so it won’t have a chance to set in. 

It’s easy to scoop up the dirty clothes in front of his door and hide the slip wit his shirts. Billy stomps down the hall towards the laundry area and starts a load. He’s been washing his own clothes since he was eight, so his dad won’t think anything of this. Susan won’t have time to miss the slip. She’s got four or five of them. And Billy will let it hang to dry in his closet before he sneaks it back where it belongs. 

He carefully puts the last forty-five minutes out of his mind, just focuses on the tasks he needs to complete in order to stay under the radar. 

When Billy gets back into his room, he lights up another cigarette and sits on his bed. His eyes close and he escapes the walls of this house, this town,  _ this life _ . 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Crazy For You” by Madonna. 
> 
> I’m the-redcrate on Tumblr.


End file.
